Lonely Vigil
by Kelsey
Summary: Just post-'Into the Woods', an alternate version on how Spike might confess his feelings for Buffy.
1. Part One

****

Lonely Vigil

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, Joss Whedon, please don't sue me! The only thing of value I own is the computer, anyway!

Author's Note: Please be easy on me, as this is my first foray into the Buffiverse. It is not, however, my first fanfic, so feel free to send constructive criticisms to [teneljade@netzero.net][1]. Thanks!

Setting: Canon until right after 'Into the Woods', AU from there. 

Rating: PG-13

The expression on the platinum-blond vampire's face was wistful. It was obvious he wasn't hunting, yet the casual onlooker would not be able to figure out what exactly he _was_ doing, either.

Xander knew.

The dark-haired teen sauntered slowly towards the lonely demon, making his movements as calm and unhurried as possible. He made no secret of his presence, yet the vampire did not turn. Xander waved the cloud of smoke from his face, grimaced, and broke the silence.

"Do vamps get lung cancer? Because if you've been sucking smoke, for what, about two hundred years, you ought to be dead by now."

William the Bloody, or Spike, as he was better known, sent only a glare in the younger man's direction. "I _am_ dead, you bloody imbecile." His voice was lilting with a British accent, who's delicate elegance seemed out of place on such a vicious demon. 

He dropped the cigarette, stomped on it, and turned on his heel, never once noticing that his entire motive for being there had come out when she'd heard the noise.

Xander watched the blond demon retreat with his shoulders hunched. Spike wasn't a large man, but he was wiry, and gave the impression of being tall and poised. That was, when he wasn't sulking, Xander reflected.

A light lit the porch on the house they'd been standing outside of, and Buffy Summers' voice rang into the dark night. Down the block, the vampire stopped suddenly, and then dropped his head even farther, and continued to walk. It isn't worth it, he reminded himself. 

But he did turn his head long enough to see Buffy greet Xander with a hug, and a smile. Oh, how he wished she would one day greet him like that.

Retreating into his apartment, Spike just barely missed the sunrise. He had walked all night, head down, shoulders slumped. Just plodding, putting one foot in front of the other, not sure where he was going, and honestly not caring. So exhausted that he failed to notice that the door no longer hung on its hinges.

"Cut that a little close, didn't you? With the sunrise?"

Spike jumped at the unexpected voice. "Bloody hell!" He took a closer look at the intruder. "Don't I have to invite you?"

The dark shadow in the back of the dim apartment nodded. "You did. Once, a long, long time ago."  
Spike nodded. "Oh, well, knowing that makes everything all better." He dropped into a chair, keeping a watchful eye on his guest, and picking up his trusty liquor bottle. "You know, you're not safe. This chip doesn't say anything about not killing fellow vampires."

"I didn't come here to fight."

"Funny. Because breaking into one's apartment, and then scaring the crap out of them is generally sort of an invite to be attacked." Spike looked down at the bottle he was holding. "Were you in my drinks?"

A displeased sound came from the broad, dark shadow of a man. "No, I was not in your drinks. Would you settle down and let me talk?"

Spike put the bottle back on the table with a slam. "Sure. Anything you say. This is only my house, and that'll only be the fifth...or was that sixth? door that I've had to replace in the last two years!"

"I will pay for your door."

Spike made an annoyed sound of his own. "So, what are you here for, anyway?"

The dark vampire's face was bathed in shadow, but Spike could see the worry etched on his handsome face. "The Slayer. She is in mortal danger."

Spike shrugged, pretending to be indifferent to the news. "So? She's usually in danger, mate. Part of the job description."

He took a swig from the bottle, and put it back down. "Besides, where you do get off caring, anyway? We're vampires, in case you hadn't noticed. And she's the Slayer. That means we're supposed to want her dead, not out of danger."

The other vampire glowered at Spike. "We're not ordinary vampires, and you know it."

"Yeah. But you might have a soul, I only have a stupid chip in my head! I don't actually care about the Slayer, I just can't hurt her."  
Angel made a derogatory snort. "And I'm a saint. Yeah, Spike, you don't care about her. If you had that chip out of your head, the first thing you'd do is kill her, right?"  
Spike nodded absently. "Right."

"Yeah, right! You're in love with her, you're not going to kill her!"

Spike's head snapped up. "I am _not_ in love with the bloody Slayer, Angelus!"

Angel shrugged, and took a step out of the shadows. "Whatever you say, Spike." He paused, not quite looking at the smaller vampire. In fact, his eyes were so blank that Spike wasn't sure he was looking _at_ anything. It seemed like _through_ might be a better word for what his sire was doing.

Then he refocused, and pulled his gaze around to the vampire he had made, and felt at least a little responsibility for. "Keep the Slayer away from the graveyard tomorrow night. Me and my boys'll take care of things."

Spike snorted. "And how, exactly do you propose I do that? My word isn't exactly law when it comes to her."

Angel's face was hard. "Make it law. I want her kept out of that graveyard tomorrow, Spike, and I think your survival instincts are strong enough to do the trick."

Spike pretended to be incredulous. "Are you threatening me, mate?" He asked.

Angel's face didn't change. "Not yet." And with those parting words, the dark-haired demon walked blindly into the sunlight. 

Spike took a moment to absorb what he'd just seen. When he did, he simply shrugged his shoulders, and answered the miracle the only way he could. "Angel."

"Buffy! I swear! There really is a vamp nest downtown, and it needs to be checked out. I... I saw a lot of vampires there." He finished hurriedly.

Buffy had her patented 'I'm SO much better than you could EVER be' look on, and Spike knew she was about to slam the door in his face. Sure enough, there came the door. Spike grabbed a large stick/branch, and shoved it in the doorway to keep the door from closing all the way. He would have stuck his foot in, but she hadn't gotten around to inviting him in yet.

The platinum-blond demon hurriedly changed tactics. "Oh. Well, it's too bad you're busy. But I can take care of them just as easily by myself... Guess I just wanted to make sure I wasn't... doing your job for you if you didn't want me to."

The door opened a little more again. Success! Buffy's face was still skeptical. "And what's that supposed to mean, Spike?"

"I think you know."

"No, I don't. Otherwise, I wouldn't have asked, _William_."

Uh-oh. Things were going downhill when she started calling him the dreaded W-name. He was about to backpedal, when he realized who he was faced with. And he never backed down from the Slayer.

Spike squared his shoulder and adopted a lazy pose on Buffy's porch, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. "It's supposed to mean that I think you're worried you can't take on those vamps, so you've invented some excuse to get out of coming."

Buffy snorted, but Spike could tell she was starting to take offense. Still, she covered well. "Spike, I don't need an excuse to back out of going somewhere with you. Excuses are things that are used when someone needs to be polite. Have you ever, once, seen me be polite to you?"

"Well, there was that one time when we were married..."

Buffy was getting mad. "Does this little visit have a point, Spike, or is it just torture-the-Slayer-night?"

"Oh, it has a point all right. In fact, I can't believe it slipped your mind that quickly. If you were as mad as you seemed to be earlier, I don't think you'd forget that fast--"

"No, Spike, I meant a real reason, not just one you invented for some crazy reason, which is unknown to anyone but you. Vamp nest downtown? Can you get any more lame than that? Honestly."

Spike held up a hand in defeat. He couldn't hold them both up, because he was holding his cigarette in the other. "Okay, okay, that was pretty lame. How about I tell you the real reason after we get there?"

Buffy looked at him. "Where's there?" She asked critically. 

Spike smirked. "You'll see."

Buffy threw her head back and growled. "Aggghhh! You are so annoying, Spike!" But, despite her protests, she was pulling on a denim jacket and slinging her bag of slaying equipment over her shoulder. She stalked out the door, pulling it shut behind her. "All right. If I have to go to figure out what the hell it is that you want, let's at least get going."

The ride to the old campsite was uneventful. Buffy threw Spike more glares than he could count, and the ever-not-so-patient vampire calmly ignored. Apparently, a subject that doesn't respond to negative stimulus at all is useless to an angry Slayer, because she seemed to be pretending he didn't exist.

Only when they were parked did Buffy seem to notice where they were. She sat back tight against her seat, holding her hands out as if warding Spike off. "Spike, are you crazy? This is a make-out site! What the hell are we doing here?"

Spike relaxed comfortably in his own seat. "Well, when the teenage and young adult citizens of Sunnyhell are making out, what do you think they're not watching out for?"

Buffy relaxed a little, her guard still up tight. "Things that go bump in the night," She filled in. She fished around in her bag, and pulled out a sharpened wooden stake. Spike scanned the campsite for sights of demonic activity, but the wooded area was quiet, apart from the heavy breathing in the cars on either side of them, and the occasional odd thump.

After ten minutes of this, Buffy was bored. For a Slayer, she didn't have very much patience, Spike mused idly. But he supposed Slaying didn't require a lot of surveillance and the such. It was mostly an action job.

"What are we going to do while we wait for these vamps to show?" She whined. Spike covered a smile with a cough, partly because she was so cute when she whined, and partly because there were no vamps, they were the hoax he'd invented to keep her away from the graveyard, which was her usual patrol.

He leaned back in his seat, and put a hand to his chin, pretending to give it great thought. Then, without warning, he swooped over and kissed her, hard and fast. Buffy got a glazed look in her eyes, and she asked, "Wha...what was that?"

"I kissed you. It's a make-out sight, I kissed you. Making sense yet?" He asked. But he was starting to get concerned. The funny glazed look in the Slayer's eyes was dissipating, and it was being replaced by anger. 

"Spike. You kissed me. That's just.... ugh!" His heart fell a little at the rejection, but he forced himself to keep light, it wasn't like he'd expected anything different. 

"Okay. If I'm so 'ugh', who would you rather be kissing?" He asked. 

Buffy's face went to stone. 

Spike took a guess. "A certain someone who's mailing address in somewhere in South America, possibly in a graveyard?"

Buffy slapped him. Hard. He held a hand to his cheek, and looked at her, incredulous. She'd hit him plenty of times before, but he'd always had the feeling she was just making a point, or taking her anger out on a living punching bag. Now she was mad. He could feel her anger in the air.

"You will not talk about Riley that way!" She hissed. Spike held up his hands in defeat. 

"All right, all right! Not over Captain Cardboard yet, huh?" He asked, knowing he was setting himself up for it. 

Buffy slapped him again, but this time, she exited the car while he was recovering. He called after her, but she refused to acknowledge him.

He sat back, still rubbing his aching cheek, and mused upon the fact that he'd managed to drive his precious beauty even farther from him. Not that she knew he had any intentions beyond annoying her for the rest of her life.

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[Back to _A Little Part of the Buffiverse_ Fanfic][3]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/buffy.html
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/b_afanfic.html



	2. Part Two

****

Lonely Vigil

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, Joss Whedon, please don't sue me! The only thing of value I own is the computer, anyway!

Author's Note: Please be easy on me, as this is my first foray into the Buffiverse. It is not, however, my first fanfic, so feel free to send constructive criticisms to [teneljade@netzero.net][1]. Thanks!

Setting: Canon until right after 'Into the Woods', AU afterwards.

Rating: PG-13

****

PART TWO

Spike didn't see Buffy for a couple of days, and he got the feeling he was being purposefully avoided. When he finally did catch her without an excuse, it was just after dark at the Magic Box. Good thing was, Dawn was with Joyce, and all of the Scooby gang was in the immediate area, so she couldn't make up reasons to leave. Bad thing was, all her friends were there.

"Hey, Slayer!" He called as he pushed open the door. 

Giles looked up at the sound of his voice, and scowled. "If you want to stay alive, or at least undead, I'd leave rather quickly, Spike."

"Are you threatening me, Watcher?"

"No. But I do believe Buffy is rather... unhappy with you."

"Where is she?"

"In the training room." Giles called after the vampire as he headed towards the back of the shop. "Spike-- that's your last chance to reconsider. I would keep in mind that there's a lot of wood back there."

Spike nodded. "Thanks." But he continued on, heading fearlessly into a situation that no vampire in its right mind would ever want to be in. Especially since the Slayer killed them when she wasn't mad at them, add anger to the mix, and make her practically undefeatable.

He flung open the door and was promptly tackled by Buffy, who'd apparently heard everything and had been lying in wait for him on the other side of the doorframe. "Oof!" A hard puff of air went sailing from his lungs. Why did he bother to breathe anymore, anyway? He was over a hundred years old, and he still employed human mannerisms. He was a disgrace to the title of vampire.

When he'd recovered a little, he opened his eyes to find himself on his back with a pissed little Slayer sitting on his stomach, stake in hand and ready for action. "Give me five good reasons why I shouldn't stake you." Were her first words.

"Well, hello to you, too, Buffy."

She pressed the end of the stake against his chest. "Five reasons, now in a minute or less, Spike."

He swallowed hard. "Look, Buffy..."

He looked up at her for help, but found none, now only that her friends had crowded around the watch the little show. Great.

"Look, Slayer, I'm not going to waste my unlife not telling you how I feel about you. If you don't reciprocate, that's fine, but I won't live in regret! Do you bloody know what regret feels like?"

Buffy gave him a tight smile with no humor behind it. The kind he'd seen her use before she staked vamps. "Yeah, 'fraid I do, William. Thirty seconds."

"Okay, okay! We'll never talk about it again, I'll pack up and leave if I have to, but you could use me. I mean, vampire strength, right?"

Buffy got tiredly off of him, and he picked himself up, wincing as he went. "Slayer... I'll never say it again if you don't want me to... but I love you."

That said, everyone's jaw gaping open, the vampire ran from the magic shop, afraid of what the Slayer's wrath would hold for him this time. He knew he'd gotten extremely close to getting staked this time, and he didn't want a repeat of the performance, especially if the ending changed.

*********

Again, it was a few days before they ran into each other, but this time, it was Spike avoiding Buffy. He argued with himself all day long, but it was always the same: He wanted to see what she'd say to his declaration of love, but his survival instincts were always stronger.

Finally, she cornered him in his hide-out, with no where to run in broad daylight. She looked mad, and Spike hoped she wasn't as upset as she seemed.

She stalked forward, sharp stake in front of her, forcing him back towards, and then up against the wall, her sharp gaze never leaving his, the anger in her eyes perceptible to all but the youngest or most idiotic people. "What the hell did you think you were doing the other day?" She asked menacingly.

"Telling you the truth! I couldn't live with myself if I hadn't."

Buffy shook her head, and looked almost sad for him. "I hate to tell you this Spike," She said, looking almost too gleeful for Spike's taste, "but you're a scum-sucking weasel, and there would never, _ever_, be a you and I, even if we were the only two people on earth."

Spike's heart felt like it had jumped in his chest. He looked at the floor, and away from Buffy so that she wouldn't see the tear that escaped his sad and hurt eyes. "Is that all, Slayer? Are we done?"

"No way. I've got a million more things to say."

Spike looked up and remarked sharply, "Do you think they could wait for tomorrow? Or maybe the next day, since tomorrow I'm liable to have on hell of a hangover."

Buffy saw the tears running down his face, and stopped her little tirade. She seemed surprised. "You're... you're crying."

"'Course I am, you idiot! The woman I'm in love with just told me that I'm 'scum-sucking slime'. Did I get it right? No, I didn't, it was a weasel, not slime."

Buffy backed away, towards the door, and Spike simply stayed where he was, slumped against the wall, not even watching her go.

She left silently, leaving Spike to slide down the wall to the floor, only getting up long enough to grab several bottles and flasks of liquor and return the couch, where he proceeded to spend the rest of the day and night in a drunken stupor.

Buffy spent the next day wondering about her choice with Spike. Sure, there was no chance between them... but she could have been a little nicer...

_No!_ She snapped at herself. _This is Spike. Spike doesn't get nice. Spike doesn't deserve nice._

_Yeah? _Asked her inner voice. _He looked hurt. Maybe he really meant it. He wouldn't be the first one, would he?_

_Even if he does_, Buffy argued with herself, _I might as well not encourage him. If he got together with me, he'd just end up leaving anyway._

Are you sure? Asked her opponent. _Other people seem to be able to find the ones they love, and stay with them. Maybe you just haven't met the right one yet._

"I'm damn sure!" Buffy snapped out. Willow, who'd just opened the door to her dorm room, looked at her. 

"Buffy?" She asked.

"Sorry. Just having a little argument with myself."

"About?" Willow held the door open, and motioned Buffy inside. They both sank into the couch cushions, and continued talking.

"Spike."

"What? Did he do something, and you need to figure out how to punish him?" Willow asked curiously.

Buffy cracked a little smile. "No. It's just that... I was pretty hard on him yesterday... and when I left... he was crying."

"Crying?" Willow looked incredulous. "Like, tears running down your cheeks crying?"

Buffy nodded. "And I almost feel bad. But I don't want to! I mean, this is Spike, remember?"

"I remember."

"That was more for me, than for you," Buffy explained. "I have this annoying little inner voice that keeps telling me I was mean to Spike, and I should go apologize. Or something like that."

"Well... should you?"

"Apologize? To Spike?" Buffy looked at her best friend like she was speaking a foreign language.

"Yeah. I mean, all he did was tell you the truth. Nobody deserves to have their heads snapped off for feelings they can't control, Buffy," Willow reminded her gently.

Buffy was starting to look a guilty. "I know, I know! It's just that... I feel like if I did that, I'd be leading him on. And just because he's telling the truth doesn't mean that there's any chance or any 'us'."

"I know. But... maybe you should talk to him, Buffy."

"You're right, Will. You're always right. I guess I'll talk to him tonight. Now, shopping?"

Willow grinned, and popped up from the couch. "Going shopping, going shopping, going shopping, here I come!" She sang out gleefully. Buffy laughed.

[Back to _A Little Part of the Buffiverse_][2]

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/buffy.html
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/b_afanfic.html



	3. Part Three

****

Lonely Vigil

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

****

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, Joss Whedon, please don't sue me! The only thing of value I own is the computer, anyway!

Author's Note: Please be easy on me, as this is my first foray into the Buffiverse. It is not, however, my first fanfic, so feel free to send constructive criticisms to [teneljade@netzero.net][1]. Thanks!

Setting: Canon until right after 'Into the Woods', AU afterwards.

Rating: PG-13

> **PART THREE**
> 
> Spike was slumped in his chair, watching old Dawson's Creek re-runs when the door flew up. He looked up, but saw only a light blur, vaguely pink, through his drunken haze. "Who is it?" He asked, slurring his words slightly.
> 
> "Buffy," Came the Slayer's voice, surprisingly soft.
> 
> Despite his intoxication, the vampire pulled himself upright, and clicked off the TV. Now that he knew who she was, if he squinted right, he could see that the blob was vaguely Slayer-shaped. "Yeah, what do you want?"
> 
> She crept closer, and Spike knew the smart thing to do would be to rise, and go in the other direction, but he was beyond caring for his safety at this point. "I'm sorry, Spike." She said quietly.
> 
> Spike didn't think he could have heard her right. "What?"
> 
> "I said, I'm _sorry_, Spike."
> 
> The hundred-year-old vampire wasn't quite sure how to answer to that. "Oh."
> 
> The silence in the room didn't last long, as Buffy launched into a usual tirade, which, as usual, made Spike want to laugh, though, this time, he didn't. "This doesn't mean that there's an 'us', or that there ever will be. But I owe you a lot, Spike, and I shouldn't have treated you the way I did."
> 
> Spike looked away. "Well, it doesn't really matter, does it? Because I'm just a monster, a creature of the night, something so awful that you need to be super-human to kill me. I prey on the innocent. I protect the name of evil. Why should the assigned _fighter_ of evil care about how I feel?"
> 
> There was a long pause, and then Buffy replied softly, obviously having actually given it some thought. "I don't know." 
> 
> "That was a rhetorical question, Slayer."
> 
> "Oh. Sorry."
> 
> There was an awkward pause, and then Spike held up the flask of brandy. "Want some?" He asked.
> 
> Buffy looked about to give her usual 'eww, yuck' routine, then remembered that she'd just come to apologize for things that came out of her mouth when she didn't think first. "No."
> 
> "Well, you're welcome to have a seat, and watch with me, then," Spike said. "Jen is busy forcing Jack to confront his sexuality."
> 
> Buffy made a face, but accepted the seat next to the vampire, careful to keep body-space room between them. "And this is entertaining, why?"
> 
> Spike shrugged. "When it's all you have, besides sleeping, for twelve or fifteen hours of the day, you get used to television. This is some of the better stuff."
> 
> Buffy was clearly skeptical, but she settled in and gave it her honest best shot, and by the time it was over, she was chatting as enthusiastically as Spike was about the show. 
> 
> When she left, a little after ten that night, she was smiling a little, and her cloudy bad mood had lifted. Spike, on the other hand, was rapidly becoming hung-over instead of drunk, and settled in to sleep it off as best as he could.
> 
> Buffy knew that the vampire was going to have a headache in the gallon-size package when he awoke, plus he wouldn't have anything to do all day, so she headed to his house around nine in the morning equipped with aspirin, a couple of movies, and some cloths that could be wetted and placed on his head. She had assumed, rightly so, that Spike wouldn't own much of anything beyond a few pairs of black jeans and shirts, and a duster.
> 
> When she entered the hole that he lived in, it was twice as gently as she usually did, and without damaging the door at all. Spike was asleep on the top of the stone that he slept on, for what reason, Buffy had no idea. The vampire was by no means rich, but he had a little money, certainly enough to buy himself a bed.
> 
> What caught her attention was not the fact that he hadn't bothered to remove any of his clothes the previous night, or even that he looked amazingly vulnerable when he was sleeping, but the fact that he was tossing and turning, quite clearly calling out her name. "Buffy!" He cried softly. "Buffy, nooooooooooo!"
> 
> Buffy knew she shouldn't wake someone having a nightmare ordinarily, but in this case, she was pretty sure waking him up and reassuring him that she was fine would be the best course of action. She reached down gently, and shook his arm.
> 
> Slowly coming back to the real world, Spike opened his eyes and squinted up at her. "Buffy?" He asked, sounding incredulous. "But... but..."
> 
> Buffy felt a sudden protectiveness towards the outcast vampire, and reached down to smooth his hair away from his face. "It was just a dream, Spike. I'm fine."
> 
> He took her completely by surprise when he sat up and grabbed in a hug, resting his head on her shoulder, and almost shaking with the emotion. Buffy's first inclination was to throw him off of her, but then she realized that he was acting almost like a lost child, and she couldn't, or at least, didn't want to, really do that. She began to wonder if maybe she'd underestimated the intensity of the vampire's feelings. 
> 
> After a moment, he pulled away from her, wiping his eyes on the back of his hands roughly. Buffy just watched him, not offering anything. 
> 
> Spike hopped down from the crypt holding his head and moaning softly, and grabbed up a pair of pants and another black shirt. He looked at her pointedly, and she turned, giving him as much privacy as she could under the circumstances. The rustle of clothing behind her back was giving her odd sensations, but she did her best to ignore them.
> 
> The movement stopped, and Spike told her she could turn around. She dug the bottle of aspirin out of her pocket, and handed it to him. "Here," She said. "I thought you might need this. You looked pretty smashed last night."
> 
> He took it from her gently, and she was almost amazed by the delicacy of his slender hands. The nail polish was old and chipping, but gave the same impression, the impression of power and strength. Silently, she berated herself for allowing herself to think about, of all people, Spike, that way.
> 
> "Thanks," He replied, looking uncomfortable. Buffy turned and left, returning for just a second, just long enough to remind him to meet the Scooby gang that night at the Magic Box to discuss some local demon population's spawning. He nodded, and she turned her back.
> 
> Spike spent a long time thinking about that small gesture. It wasn't that long ago that she wouldn't have turned her back to the vampire, no matter what. Now, she did it as habit, just as she left anyone else's home. It was a trust issue, a small one, admittedly, but an issue just the same. And he was proud that she was learning he wasn't so awful, anymore.
> 
> At seven that evening, the sun was almost set, and all of the 'Scooby gang', minus Spike, were gathered at the Magic Box. Giles pushed his glasses up on his nose, the way he did, and dropped his armful of books on the table. "Well, shall we get started?" He asked.
> 
> Buffy didn't bother to look up from the book she had her nose buried in, studying for a test at school. "Spike's not here."
> 
> Giles looked at his Slayer, and cleared his throat a little. "Buffy... you made it most clear... that Spike was not welcome. Do you really think he'll come?"
> 
> The door banged open, and the vampire stormed in, his coat over his head. "Hey!" He exclaimed. "Whose bright idea was it to have this meeting _before_ the sun set?"
> 
> No one answered, and Spike threw himself into a chair opposite the Slayer. "Well, if no one's going to 'fess up, I guess we'd better get on with whatever it was that I got burned getting her for." He didn't miss the look between the Watcher and the Slayer, and he grinned. Buffy glared at him.
> 
> "Didn't think I'd show, Watcher?" He asked.
> 
> Giles pushed his glasses up his nose again. "Well, to be perfectly honest, no."
> 
> Buffy put down her textbook, and clapped her hands. "All right, all right! Enough chatter, let's get to work."
> 
> So, for the next couple of hours, the Scooby gang gathered around a table and researched the mating habits of some demon or another that was infesting the sewers of Sunnydale. 
> 
> Eventually, it was decided that Spike would go with Willow, and Buffy with Tara. Muscle with magick, as Buffy put it. They had decided that they might need some of both to clear out the hormonal demons.
> 
> At ten that night, the teams left. Giles stayed at the Magic Box, doing whatever it was that he did with his spare time, and Anya, her job over once the research was done, went home with Xander, a goofy grin on her face, like usual. Except when there wasn't enough room between her face and Xander's for a smile.
> 
> Dawn was at home with Joyce, and Buffy mentally ran through the list of where her friends were. Noting that she knew where everyone was, that left the entire gang accounted for. This was when Buffy felt most safe, so she was relatively at ease even as she headed into battle alongside the quiet wicca. 
> 
> Walking with a little spring in her step, Buffy looked over at Tara. She'd sent Willow with Spike, because she'd been afraid that the vampire might intimidate the poor girl. Tara, for all her power, was quiet and shy, and didn't seem to gain confidence even when she was using her magick, unlike Willow. The red-haired witch might stutter and act unsure when approached about performing a spell, but once she got it going, there was no doubt of her powers.
> 
> Tara, pretty much acted nervous and anxious and shy all the time. And Buffy had decided that it was time the girl got set at ease with the Scoobies. After all, she'd been with them a whole year, and if their team was going to run smoothly, they needed to trust each other. And, as much as Buffy wanted to, she didn't know Tara well enough to trust her.
> 
> _That's going to change_, Buffy told herself determinedly. _Now_.
> 
> She slung her hair over her shoulder, and smiled at the taller girl. "I think it's time you and I got to know each other, don't you?"
> 
> Tara looked at her nervously, and stuttered her response. "S-s-sure," She agreed. 
> 
> Buffy nodded, ignoring the wicca's obvious anxiety. "Well, let's start with something simple." She pondered a moment. "What's your favorite movie?" She asked.

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   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/lonely_1.htm
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/lonely_2.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/buffy.html
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/b_afanfic.html



	4. Part Four

****

Lonely Vigil

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

****

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, Joss Whedon, please don't sue me! The only thing of value I own is the computer, anyway! Also, I don't own any of the TV shows mentioned, obviously. 

Author's Note: Please be easy on me, as this is my first foray into the Buffiverse. It is not, however, my first fanfic, so feel free to send constructive criticisms to [teneljade@netzero.net][2]. Thanks! Plus, I don't mean any offense to fans of the television shows mentioned, and this fic doesn't necessarily depict my opinions of them.

Setting: Canon until right after 'Into the Woods', AU afterwards.

Rating: PG-13

> PART FOUR
> 
> Spike kicked the large, and typically ugly demon flat on its back for about the third time. Willow had sent a spell to lead Buffy here, but the Slayer hadn't shown yet, and the vampire and wicca were working double-time just to keep the angry parents-to-be off their backs.
> 
> Suddenly, the door to the small room was kicked open, and the Slayer strode through, doing her usual 'Want me? Come and get me' walk. The demons turned to her, and hissed, gathering up their three eggs, and preparing to make a rush for it.
> 
> Spike stepped back, and stood beside Buffy in the doorway. The Slayer, looking a little pissed, shook her finger at the demons. "Uh uh uh," She said, as though they were naughty children. "Don't think so."
> 
> Spike ran a hand through his hair in and exaggerated motion of coolness. "Wouldn't try it, fellows," He offered up the green, scaled, seven foot tall beast, as though he was giving a friend some advice. "The Slayer'll kick your ass. And that's never fun."
> 
> Regardless, as most demons do when faced with Buffy, the ugly things rushed Spike and the Slayer. Willow picked up a timber, and whacked one of the beasts on the back of the head, but it barely noticed. Tara then pulled out a sharp, wicked-looking knife, and tried to hack at the beast, but its armor was too strong.
> 
> Buffy and Spike were holding their own, but they wouldn't be for long, if this kept up. They were taking as many blows as they were dishing out, and that was never a good situation to be in. 
> 
> Then, the vampire had an idea. "Hand me the knife!" He shouted, as he dished out a right hook to the beast in front of him, delivering a powerful sidekick in the wake of the demon's tottering. No one responded.
> 
> Spike got in a few more blows, and had his demon in a choke-hold when he yelled again. "Give me the bloody knife!" Tara handed it to him as quickly as possible, being extremely careful to skirt the powerful claws that slashed out at her, the other hand of the beast busy with holding onto the egg.
> 
> Spike took the blade, and with one long motion, beheaded the demon. Gooey, sticky, honey-colored liquid flowed as blood within the demons body, and splashed all over Spike and Buffy who were fighting back to back, using each other to hold themselves up. Willow made a face, and jumped back.
> 
> Turning, Spike jumped on the demon that was attempting to overcome Buffy. The being had screamed when its mate went down, but now, seemed only more determined than moments before to win this fight.
> 
> But between Buffy's Slayer strength, Spike's vampire strength, and Tara's knife, the demon never had a chance, and the Slayer and her Slayerettes walked away from the battle victorious, but covered in honey-colored goop, and smelling like a barn, as Willow put it.
> 
> "Why did we smash those eggs?" The red-haired wicca asked her friend. "What did those baby demons ever do to anyone?"
> 
> Spike laughed. "Nothing yet, Red. But baby demons grow into big demons-"
> 
> Buffy cut him off. "And big demons think there's nothing better than the occasional human child for a snack. Particularly on their demon holidays."
> 
> Willow looked away, and Tara wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Yuck," Willow said, sounding rather defeated about it.
> 
> Buffy made a face back at her best friend, and then looked down the road. "I'd better go home and clean up, Will. Could you call Giles and tell him mission accomplished?"
> 
> Willow nodded, and reached up to wipe some of the slime from her forehead. "Yep. Right _after_ I get this off me."
> 
> Buffy laughed. "Sure. See you tomorrow, Will." The wicca nodded, and she and Tara took off in the opposite direction.
> 
> Buffy continued to walk towards her house, and Spike followed her in silence, until they got to the turn-off that took him back to his crypt. He started to go his own way, but the Slayer stopped him. "Where are you going?" She asked.
> 
> The vampire looked a little confused. "Home," He told her.
> 
> Buffy looked him up and down. He might have gotten the worst of the spray, having beheaded both of the beasts, and he wasn't a pleasant sight. He was certain that he and Buffy had left a trail of slime on their way back. 
> 
> "Does home have a shower?" She asked.
> 
> The vampire shook his head.
> 
> "Then, no, you're not," She told him. 
> 
> Spike wasn't sure he'd heard her right, but he played along. "Well, where am I going, Slayer?"
> 
> She grabbed his arm, and pushed him in the direction of her house. "You're coming home with me, and you're taking a shower, because I don't want to have to associate with something that looks as gross as the Glop Monster, and has an even worse personality."
> 
> "Who's personality are you calling bad? I seem to recall that I'm usually on the receiving end of the beatings that _you_ usually deliver!" He told her hotly.
> 
> Buffy actually looked a little chagrined. "I know. I should stop." From her, this was as good as an apology, and as close as he thought he'd ever see to one. Spike's jaw dropped open, and he started to speak, but decided not to question his good luck.
> 
> The vampire, still flabbergasted, followed her docilely into her home, past her mother and sister, who both stared at them as if they were the slime-monsters they were, and into the guest bathroom shower. He was amazed at the rivers of dirt, gunk and slime that came off of his body. Counting backwards to the last time he'd done this, he decided that the Slayer was right. He really had needed this shower.
> 
> Coming out, he wrapped himself in the robe Buffy had left him, telling him that she was going to wash his clothes, whether he spit or fought or tried to push her off a cliff, so he'd allowed her to do so. Besides, the last time they'd been washed was around the last time he'd washed himself.
> 
> The platinum-blond vampire joined the happy family in the living room, where Buffy was combing out slightly damp blond waves. Dawn, as usual, was sulking about something or another, but she looked up at her sister when Spike entered the room. "He's cute when he's not playing slime monster," The vampire heard her mutter to her sister.
> 
> Dawn got a glare and a half and a 'don't you _ever_ go there' look for that comment. Spike grimaced, not for Dawn, but for himself, because now that Buffy was reminded she had a family to protect from his evil influences, it was almost guaranteed that 'Be-nice-to-Spike day' was over.
> 
> But the Slayer, though she fixed him with her steely glare, didn't attempt to bite his head off quite as swiftly as usual, giving him hope for his continued existence. Instead of her usual fiery reactions, she was amazingly silent.
> 
> Looking around for someone to talk to, to take his mind off the pissed Slayer, his eyes fell on the oldest Summers woman. "'Evening, Joyce," The vampire greeted Buffy's mother, ignoring the blond's evil-eyed stare.
> 
> Joyce looked him up and down, a little smile on her face. "Well, hello, Spike," She said. 
> 
> "You looked like the Glop monster when you came in here," Dawn remarked.
> 
> Spike smirked. "Funny, pet. That's what your sis said." He gave a mock-meaningful glace in the Slayer's direction, only to be driven down by her icy stare. He clutched his heart, pretending to be hurt. "Aw, I'm not allowed to acknowledge the fact that you two think alike, love?" He asked Buffy.
> 
> The Slayer sighed heavily, and turned away from him. She then started to run the comb fastidiously through her already tidy hair, picking at 'snarls' where Spike suspected there were none. But he decided that two could play this game, and sat down in the chair farthest from his sworn enemy, which happened to be right next to said-enemy's mother.
> 
> "What's on the telly tonight, Joyce?" He asked, extremely bored waiting for his clothes to dry, but equally not interested in being kicked out the door in only one of the Slayer's ex-boyfriend's robes.
> 
> Buffy's mother glanced at him momentarily. Then she clicked off the television set, and smiled a little. "Nothing. I'm just trying to pretend that there is something! It would give me something to do."
> 
> Spike leaned over a bit, just close enough to be playfully insinuating, but not close enough to set off the Slayer, whom he was all-too aware was watching them hawk-eyed from the opposite corner. "I could help you find something to... _do_, Joyce," He whispered mischievously. 
> 
> The older woman swatted him on the arm light-heartedly, and laughed a little. "Spike! My daughters are here!"
> 
> Dawn sat up a little and focused on them. "And very interested in what you're discussing, too." She told Spike eagerly.
> 
> The vampire, seeing an opportunity laid out before him, not matter how stupid of one, took it. "I was just telling your mother that I could help-"
> 
> "Spike." Buffy's tone was warning, and though he pouted at her with his eyes, he relented.
> 
> "Nothin', Lil' Bit," He told her grudgingly. Dawn, realizing that it was her sister's fault, turned and glared at Buffy, who glared right back. Neither of the sisters would back down, and Spike suspected that if they ever got going like this about something really important, they might not take their eyes off each other for a millennium or two.
> 
> Suddenly, a bright flash of an emotion that Spike hadn't felt in years flared through the vampire's system, and he just sat, and reveled in it. _So this is what happiness feels like_, he thought. It had been such a long time, that it was almost an unfamiliar sensation.
> 
> It was comforting. He felt safe, all of a sudden. Watching Dawn and Buffy try to stare each other down, plus, at the same time, Buffy try to do her hair, was amusing and comforting, because it was stability. No matter what happened, his Niblet and his tiny, feisty Slayer would always be the same people.
> 
> Joyce got up to make hot chocolate, and asked Spike if he wanted some. He nodded, and added politely, "Thank you, ma'am."
> 
> The oldest Summers' woman laughed lightly. "I told you, Spike, you don't have to call me that!" The vampire grinned back at her.
> 
> Then Dawn groaned, sighed, and broke the stare she had with her sister. Buffy grinned, and Dawn glared, explaining her reasons defensively. 
> 
> "I want to watch my Dawson's Creek tapes again before I have to go to bed!" Spike grinned. Buffy smirked. And Joyce yelled from the kitchen,
> 
> "Keep it down, honey!"
> 
> Dawn broke into a grin, mischievous light making her eyes sparkle. "She hates it," The teen explained to Spike. "Along with every other show I watch."
> 
> The vampire curled his lip a little in amusement, and leaned back in the recliner, draping his body all over the chair. Also, carefully neglecting to mention that he watched Dawson's Creek regularly. "Well, what do you watch, Little Bit?"
> 
> The fourteen-year-old sat still and thought for a minute. "Dawson's Creek, Popstars, Survivor Two, and Clueless, mostly."
> 
> Spike snorted. "No wonder."
> 
> Dawn looked very affronted as she turned to face the vampire. "'No wonder' what, Spike?"  
The vampire saw the look on the younger girl's face, but pressed the issue, curiously uncaring of what happened this night as long as he got more of the warm, comfortable, family-type feelings. And teasing Dawn was doing that for him, in a major way. "Well, you watch some bloody awful television, Niblet."
> 
> The teen put her hands defensively on her hips. "I do not! It has lots of real issues. And it's good stuff, the only good stuff on the air. How do you plan to argue for 'Passions'?"
> 
> Buffy shook her head. "Dawn..." She tried to warn her sister that arguing the merits of 'Passions' was likely to bring their mother into it, but the younger girl ignored her. 
> 
> "It's the mostly pointless waste of air time I've ever seen!" Dawn told Spike, only half-teasing now. But the vampire, egged on to defend his favorite show, ignored her more serious tone.
> 
> "That's a really good show, Lil' Bit!"
> 
> "Oh yeah?"
> 
> "Yeah!"
> 
> "Then how come there's a _doll_ as a main character?"
> 
> "He's part of the story, Dawnie," Came the ever-patient voice of Joyce Summers, from the kitchen.
> 
> "He's a doll!" Dawn turned her attention to her mother.
> 
> Spike, released from having to defend his position any longer, sat back and smiled, only barely listening to the eldest and youngest Summers women have it out about their favorite TV shows. He was so absorbed in the current episode of Dawson's Creek, which was actually a few weeks old, that he failed to notice when Dawn moved from the room.
> 
> He was arguing with the television like he usually did, only softer because Buffy was in the room with him, when he noticed the Slayer watching him with an odd expression. "What?" He asked.
> 
> "You're talking to the television, Spike."
> 
> "I know."
> 
> "You're _talking_ to the _television_."
> 
> "I know!"
> 
> The Slayer shook her head.
> 
> A few minutes later, she voiced another one of her annoying opinions, obviously bored of her younger sister's television shows and staring at the vampire in her living room. "Why do guys do that?" She questioned, trying to get a rise out of him.
> 
> Spike looked down at himself, lifting his arms to check over his body. "Do what?" He asked, finding nothing.
> 
> "Do that," Buffy said, motioning vaguely in his direction.
> 
> "Do _what_, Slayer?"
> 
> "That! You know, the taking up all the space that you possibly can thing. It's weird. Why do guys do it?"
> 
> Spike leered a little. "Why do guys do _it_, or why do guys do _that_?" He asked. 
> 
> "Spike!" The Slayer sunk back into the cushions, content, for the moment, just to glare at him until he burned under gaze. 
> 
> _Thank God that isn't one of her powers_, Spike decided.

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   [1]: mailt:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: mailtoLteneljade@netzero.net
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/lonely_1.htm
   [4]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/lonely_2.htm
   [5]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/lonely_3.htm
   [6]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/buffy.html
   [7]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/b_afanfic.html



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